He pressed his key and sent thundering out with all the volleying force of his powerful dynamos, an answer.
“What ship are you?” he demanded.
The answer that came back almost knocked him out of his chair.
“The airship Adventurer, from New Orleans to Havana. We are on the surface of the water and sinking rapidly.”
“Your position, quick!” demanded Jack.
Back through space, in a slowly dying wireless voice, came the latitude and longitude of the luckless craft.
“You are on our course. Stand by and we will pick you up,” said Jack, whom a rapid glance at the wall map had shown that, roughly, the sinking air-craft was not more than twenty miles to the southwest of the Tropic Queen’s position.
“What has happened?” asked Jack.
“No time explain details. Hurry! Hurry!——”
Jack tried to get the unseen operator once more, but a silence that was far more eloquent than words alone greeted his efforts. He turned to see the captain, in his white uniform and gold-laced cap, standing behind him.